


Punch Drunk, Dumb Struck

by Youngbloodrage



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Adam is a working class hero, Alternate Universe, F/M, Forgive Me, M/M, country club au, i promise this will be very stupid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-08 19:42:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4317369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Youngbloodrage/pseuds/Youngbloodrage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone spends the summer at a country club, Adam Parrish is unlucky, and Gansey is 100% the kind of nerd who would have sun screen on his nose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nothing Good Can Happen Here

**Author's Note:**

> None of the gang is well acquainted yet. Ronan and Kavinsky are friends. Takes place the summer after everyone's junior year.

Henrietta was the kind of place that people tried to leave come summer. Heat settled thick over Being stuck there was especially awful for anyone over the age of eleven but younger than twenty-one. There was a reason teenagers are more likely to do reckless things in the summer. the small town and the citizens themselves slowed down. June was stifling, july was suffocating, and being there in August was as good as being dead. Of course, not everyone made it out. The people who were still there come summer either had no where to go or no money to leave at all.

It's because it's the only thing for them to do.

The only thing, that is, except for the Henrietta country club. Small and more out of date with every summer that passed, the club was no longer the halcyon beacon of the wealthy and privileged. It was simply the only place to go. For the lucky, it was the best place to idly pass the time poolside. For the unlucky, it was a place to be paid minimum wage to cater to the same rich idiots they were paid minimum wage to cater to during the rest of the year.

Adam Parrish was unlucky. To be fair, the thirty hours a week working at the country club weren't what defined him as unlucky. It just didn't help. The club was his third job, less enjoyable than the mechanic's but less dull than the factory. But he'd quit the mechanic's and work full time at the factory if it could've kept him from needing this job. Because it was the most humiliating things he had ever had to do. Being a scholarship student was hard enough without the added embarrassment of classmates throwing towels at him.

But he needed the money. He always needed the money. Adam Parrish lived a life that was defined by the need of money and he was surrounding by boys who rolled their cigarettes in dollar bills. It was unfair and it was painful but it wasn't the worst thing that happened to him. But it was close to it.

 

And it got closer and closer to being the worst thing every time someone whistled for him. He'd been working there for two weeks and he had a name tag. Never mind that he'd gone to school with most of the members for three years. There was really no excuse for anyone to not know his name and even if they didn't there were much better, more respectful ways, to get his attention. But they did it anyway. Maybe they got off on asserting superiority. He knew these boys and it wasn't unlikely.

The day was overcast but still hot. The only thing the clouds did was make it more humid than it usual. It made the whole afternoon more unbearable. Adam found that it added to the agitation that was had been building in him since he woke up. Having to ride his bike four miles bad enough as it was, much less to job that he hated. Add in the flash flood halfway there and you had a very irritated, albeit very damp worker. Add the third whistle of the day and you had a boy very close to breaking point.

Adam clenched his jaw and turned to the source of the sound. Kavinsky. Of course. Wherever there was so much a threat of anger it seemed that Joseph Kavinsky appeared and made himself at home. With white sunglasses and a long island iced tea the boy was the poster child for employee harassment. Not to mention that he was accompanied by Ronan Lynch, whom Adam had never seen smile at anything that wasn’t a joke about a car crash.

 

It wasn’t shaping up to be a good day for him and he had no desire to make it any worse.  
“How can I help you?” Adam asked, trying his best to erase his accent and sound polite at the same time.  
“It’s going to rain.” Kavinsky commented.  
Adam looked to the sky to appease him. “Probably.” He replied, because the word probably didn’t seem like it could bother anyone. He was wrong.  
“Well?”  
“Well what?”  
“Do something about it.”  
Adam shook his head, bewildered. “There’s nothing I can do about it. You could go inside.”  
“Really? That’s all you can do?” Kavinsky smiled viciously.  
“I’m sorry I’m unable to do anything else. I could give you another towel.” The politeness was gone from his voice. He could only focus on one thing and not having an accent was more important. He’d rather be reported than mocked.  
“A towel?” He sneered.  
“Drop it,K” Ronan interrupted. He sounded disinterested and irritated. Adam wished he had that luxury.  
A look of consideration passed on Kavinsky’s face. He was infatuated with disturbing everyone without reason. Ronan Lynch seemed to have the privilege of being the only person Kavinsky attacked when he could get something out of it. That was something Adam didn’t envy. He’d rather be antagonized for no other reason that sheer sadism than be left wondering what Joseph Kavinsky wanted from him.  
In the end, Kavinsky got up and walked clubhouse. He knocked Adam with his shoulder on the way over, in an unsuccessful attempt at victory.  
It was clear he expected Ronan to follow him. He didn’t stop to prod him. He merely looked over his shoulder and frowned, as if that would be enough to convince someone as immovable as Ronan Lynch to get up.  
Ronan didn’t move. Kavinsky kept walking.

Adam was the only one on pool duty which meant that he had to put the cover of the pool by himself. But he wasn’t alone. Even with the steady stream of rain Ronan refused to move. He laid back in the lounge chair, eyes closed and hands behind his head like the sun was out and he was trying to tan.

He was anything if easy to figure out. Adam knew enough about him to realize that. But every so often he found himself trying to figure him out regardless. At least he always noticed it in time to stop himself. He would never be in the mood for the trouble that was Ronan Lynch. That’s what he told himself anyway.

He stopped staring at the other boy and went back to work. He tried drawing the task out as long as he could, to keep from the tasks that would inevitably be assigned to him once he finished. But there was only so much time covering a pool could take. It was over sooner than he would have liked. 

When he was finished grabbed a towel to dry himself off with. He found himself grabbing one for Ronan too.  
He tapped Ronan’s shoulder and held out the towel for him. He looked less than pleased to be disturbed but there wasn’t anything he was going to do about it. And he looked less angry when he saw who woke him up. It was probably because he wasn’t Kavinsky, Adam told himself.

“What’s that for?” He asked.  
“I don’t know if you noticed or not, but it’s raining.”  
“And?”  
“I just thought that maybe you would have appreciated not being soaking wet.”  
There was a flicker of a smile on Ronan’s face as he snatched the towel out of Adam’s hands like it had offended him being there.  
“Huh, I guess I just never thought of it like that.”  
Adam cleared his throat. “I should go…”  
Ronan raised his eyebrows. “Don’t let me stop you.”  
“Enjoy the rest of your time here or whatever” Adam mumbled.  
A noise came out of Ronan’s mouth that was dangerously close to a laugh. “Sure”

Adam headed back to the clubhouse, unsure of why working there seemed slightly as bad as it usually did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue and Gansey to be introduced in the next chapter. I promise this is going nowhere good.  
> Also I wrote this at seven am so like. Je suis désolé.


	2. We all Like People We Won't Admit We Like

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blue and Ronan are made of the same stuff. Angry, fluttery, stuff.

Blue liked to think that she operated in accordance to a very strict code. She didn’t always act like it though. For example, she was vehemently opposed to anyone making inappropriate comments about body, but she swallowed her rage when the person making them was a highly valued member. Even if he didn’t tip very well.

She also had a rule against having romantic feeling for any member of the country club, especially not anyone from Aglionby. This rule she was much more unflinching with. It was rarely hard, considering that even the most attractive of Aglionby boys were not only infuriatingly elitist, but also flat out dull.

Blue was anxious for the day that she had a job didn’t require the constant compromising of her moral code. But until the day she was hired as a freelance artist or amateur botanist, she was stuck in the minimum wage hell that was the Henrietta country club.

Not that it was all bad. She got to bring home leftovers from the buffet and she was learning more about mixed drinks than she ever thought possible. And besides the members themselves, the people could be okay.

Adam, for example, wasn’t completely awful. She ran into him a lot when she delivered food poolside. He always looked as exasperated as she felt, which she appreciated. 

He was there today when she delivered Mr. Smeath his third Miami Vice in ninety minutes. He shook his head and raised his eyebrows as if to say _I know I’m going to be cleaning up his vomit within the hour._

Blue rolled her eyes as if to say _I sympathize, but there is no way in hell that I’m helping you._

__It was the closest thing Blue would get for friendship until she actually made a friend._ _

__She didn’t exactly mind being a waitress. In fact, it seemed to be the only job that suited her in a poetic sense. There was something vagrant about it, something in the motion of it that left one feeling unsettled.  
She would have been fine being a waitress somewhere colorful and interesting. Full of poet types and young scholars. The fact that she was a waitress at a country club was what really killed it for her. Country clubs weren’t exactly filled with interesting people._ _

___Well, not usually. Today was a bit of an exception. Sitting poolside was a (Aglionby) boy who was on his fifth iced tea. That was the first thing Blue knew members by, their drink order._  
The boy wasn’t wearing swimwear, rather he was fully dressed in khakis and polo and awfully enough, boat shoes. Wiry glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose. Some heavy book was sitting in his lap and he seemed engrossed by it. It was like someone deaged the kind of old man who frequented the club’s smoking lounge.  
The sunscreen on his nose hadn't been rubbed in enough. It was endearing and frustrating. Maybe he'd done it on purpose, just to bother her.  
He was really something. She found she was overwhelmed with the urge to draw him. That was bad. That feeling was bad enough on its own without being brought on by an Aglionboy. 

__She was relieved when that feeling was dashed. All he had to do was open his talk to her._ _

___She brought him his iced tea (with some lemon, if she could). She had to keep herself from looking at him too long._  
“Sit down next to me.” He said.  
“Why?” She turned back to him  
“Because people are less likely to bother me if they think I’m talking to you.”  
Blue scoffed. He probably didn’t mean for it to be insulting, but she found that everything an Aglionby boy said or did to be insulting. Unless they were purposefully trying to offend, in which case it was often an assurance of her own good character.  
“Please,” Gansey said. “I’ll pay you.”  
Whatever amusement had lingered in her disappeared. Blue wouldn’t be bought and she would tear apart anyone who even tried.  
Gansey, as awkward as he was, picked up on her anger. “I’m sorry, that was the wrong thing to say. I didn’t mean to belittle you-”  
“Of course you didn’t.”  
“Still, I apologize. How could I make it up to you?” He asked, turning his legs so that his feet rested on the concrete.  
“You don’t have to do that.”  
“Yes I do. Give me a little while, I’ll figure out something.”  
She grinned in spite of herself and in spite of her code. “Good luck with that.”  
She handed him his iced tea and went back to work. 

__

__Ronan Lynch didn’t swim. He also wasn’t a fan of the sun. He’d never admit it, but he had to put on great deals on sunscreen to avoid getting burned. So there wasn’t any practical reason for him to spend everyday at the club’s pool. Really, there were much more suitable things for him to do with his time. Try and swallow sharp things, deface public property, anything really._ _

__But he stuck around. There were two real reasons for this, one he knew and the other that was always there but he refused to acknowledge._ _

__He was at the pool daily because Kavinsky, fuck knows why, was at the pool daily. And seeing as going to the country club was one of the few things that Kavinsky seemed to enjoy that did not involve snorting or explosives, he went with him._ _

__And then there was Adam Parrish. Adam Parrish, who was noticeable enough in class, became something extraordinary in sunlight. Maybe it was the same same thing that the night brought out in Ronan. The thing that turned boys into haphazard works of art._ _

__He tried not to be obvious, though someone had to have seen him staring. But dammit, he couldn’t help himself. There was just so much of him. His weary face, his chapped lips, his hands. Oh god, his hands. Ronan Lynch was the bluntest motherfucker there was but he found himself wanting to write poetry about that boy’s rough hands._ _

__He just couldn’t quite figure out why he was watching him. It should’ve been obvious to him, but it wasn’t. There was a lot that was hard to see when you’re hiding it in the dark parts of yourself. It shouldn’t have been in the dark parts of him, but it was._ _

__The day was hot and Ronan was pissed off. His life was not compliant with hot days. Not the black tank tops he was always wearing, not the fair skin, and not his human cesspool of a best friend._ _

___Kavinsky was splayed out on the louge chair next to him. He was drinking obnoxious mixed drinks that Ronan knew he only ordered to bother the staff. He was shirtless too, which didn’t help anything._  
“I’m bored, Princess.” He moaned.  
“No shit.” Ronan replied. “You spend everyday at a country club.”  
“Entertain me.”  
“Even if I could, I wouldn’t.” Ronan’s eyes wandered away from Kavinsky and towards Adam. He was folding towels, an activity which shouldn’t have been near as fascinating as Ronan found it.  
When he looked back at Kavinsky he was looking at Ronan. His white sunglasses were gleaming in the sun. He was smiling, which was always a bad sign.  
“I know what we could do,” Kavinsky purred.  
“I don’t fucking care, K.”  
“I think you’ll like it.” That just reassured Ronan how little he would like it.  
“What?” He bit.  
“Let’s fuck staff members.”  
Ronan’s eyes unintentionally flicked back to Adam.  
“Hell no.”  
“Come on,” Kavinsky said, pulling his lips back. It was something he did when he didn’t want to smile but he still wanted to show his teeth. It was the animal kind of thing Ronan could respect.  
“No.”  
He watched as Kavinsky turned his head towards Adam.  
“You’ll change your mind.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Blue Sargent the same amount I dislike Kavinsky.  
> Also, brief disclaimer, I have never been to a country club. I'm a fraud, and not a very good one at that.


	3. One of these days being young will stop feeling like the end of the world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It rains and that forces people to talk to each other. Also, Noah

If there was one person that could keep them all together in that vague awkward way it was Noah Czerny. He was like a human spiderweb, filament that connected people who never should’ve been connected.  
The only problem was that he didn’t spend much time outside. His disposition was far too delicate and his skin was almost ghostly he was so pale. But he did have a favorite chair right in the hallway. It was between the kitchen and the laundry room and across from the dim library.  
Every discontent teenager at the club ended up there at some point or another. It was the special ones who stopped to bother and talk.  
It wasn’t like he was lonely. He had friends somewhere, he thinks. It was that when you looked more like the oil portraits on the wall than the other guests people didn’t flock towards you. He was fine with that. Because it just reassured him that the ones who did bother were the kind you bothered with back.  
One of those luckless beings was Ronan Lynch, human fever dream. He came around to often for it to be a coincidence and he never tried to act like he wasn’t actively trying to be around Noah. It was nice.  
And he was second only to Blue Sargent to making Noah feel alive just by being near. The boy was so full of motion and bad ideas and he let everyone know it.  
Unfortunately, Ronan was best friends with Joseph Kavinsky. Noah had seem him in the flesh and he wished he hadn’t. Ronan was mistakes, he was ill intent. Noah wanted to warn him against the other boy, but he wasn’t in a position to be giving life advice. He sat in the same chair every day.  
“I swear to God, he’s trying to fuck me over with everything he does.” Ronan complained. Noah was delighted at Ronan’s anger. He didn’t want to be. He wanted his friend to be happy. Still, it pleased him.  
“What has he done this time?”  
“He wants to sleep with a member of the staff.”  
“Which one?” Noah asked. He knew most of them. By face, if not by name and in some cases, blood type.  
“He doesn’t have one in mind. At least, I don’t think he does. He just wants to fuck someone on the staff.”  
“Well, that’s not the worst-”  
“He wants me to do it too.” Ronan interrupted.  
“And you don’t want to do it?” Noah said. It surprised him sometimes how big of a drama queen Ronan could be. The shock never lasted long though.  
“I don’t want to do anything Kavinsky wants me to do.”  
“That’s not really a good sign.” Noah sighed.  
“I know that,” Ronan admitted. “Trust me, I know.”

 

It was raining. In an ideal world, this would mean that Adam would get an extra break. In reality, it meant he was stuck cleaning windows.  
There were good moments. He got to talk to Noah, resident shut in, while he cleaned the hallway’s windows and glass tables. Blue and him crossed paths a number of times and she updated him on the progression of collective drunkenness.  
He was currently cleaning the old fashioned smoking room’s glass. The room was full of leather and velvet and the smell of imported tobacco. It was void of people. Naturally, this made for a very pleasant experience for Adam. It allowed him to dream about a day where he’d have the position and the money that warranted being in a smoking room. Without having to clean it.

He could hear Noah talking to someone. It sounded vaguely like Lynch, but maybe that was wishful thinking on his part. Not that there was any reason he would want it to be Ronan. 

“Do you mind?”  
Adam turned from cleaning the window towards the doorway where Ronan stood. There was a cigarette in his fingers and he looked hesitant. It was a new look on him. It made it clear that his words were an honest question and not a sarcastic demand. Also new.  
“Go ahead,” Adam replied. “That’s what this is for.”  
“I thought it was for self important bastards to congregate”  
“That too.”  
It was silent for a bit as Adam cleaned and Ronan smoked his cheap American cigarettes. It was almost nice, in the way the horribly awkward thing could be nice.  
“No Kavinsky today?” Adam finally asked, a little concerned that Ronan disappeared.  
“He’s at the bar.”  
“Poor Sam.” Adam said. He really did feel sympathy for Sam, the bartender. Kavinsky was bad enough sober.  
“Who knows,” Ronan replied. “Maybe he’ll sleep with him.”  
Adam choked and laughed and the same time. The result was a very surprised, very unattractive sound. He stopped cleaning, deciding that this was officially a conversation and not just small talk to fill the space.  
Ronan released a puff of smoke and sighed. “He wants to sleep with a member of the staff before the summer is over.”  
“Why?” Adam asked. He was minorly appalled, but unsurprised. It seemed to fit with whatever image Kavinsky was trying to achieve. Thoughtless asshole in white sunglasses. Like trashy, wealthy, art.  
“I don’t know. A sense of accomplishment?” Ronan seemed apathetic in the way that it was very clear he cared. He seemed that way about most things.  
“He wants me to do it too.” Ronan added after a while. He’d finished his cigarette but didn’t reach for a new one. All that was keeping him there was Adam.  
“Are you going too?”  
“Not sure.” Ronan snorted. “I mean, maybe if that woman, you know, I think she works in the kitchen. She has a bird tattoo.”  
The woman Ronan was speaking of was fifty-eight years old. She had thick arms and a scowl that could melt steel.  
“Rita?” Adam laughed.  
“Yeah. Rita.” He agreed.  
“No offense, but I think she’s a little out of your league.”  
“Oh, fuck you Parrish.” Ronan said.  
The way he said it wasn’t harsh, but Adam was still taken aback. Ronan noticed.  
“What?” He asked.  
“Nothing.” Adam replied. “I’m just kinda surprised you knew my last name.”  
“Seriously? We’ve had Latin together for three years. And you’re the only person who’s almost as good at it as I am.”  
Arrogant, but accurate. Adam had to stuff down the little feeling of pleasure at the observation. But if he was being honest with himself, he was happier that Ronan had noticed him at all.

Blue was bringing a platter of sandwiches to the lodge when Gansey appeared. She kept walking, but he wasn’t to be deterred. He walked with her, keeping up with her hurried pace.  
“What do you like?” He asked.  
“What?” She replied, not looking at him. She knew that if she did she would end up looking at him for too long. She didn’t want to defy her code like that, flimsy as it was. It was all she had.  
“You know, what you enjoy. Hobbies, music, books.”He elaborated.  
“Why?” She took a sharp turn into a different hallway. It was a shoddy hope, but she thought she might’ve been able to lose Gansey. But the boy was determined.  
“I want to make it up to you.” He explained. “For yesterday.”  
“You don’t have to do that.” She said. She stopped herself from saying It’s the kind of thing I’ve come to expect from boys like you. Because she didn’t want to say that to Gansey. He seemed nice. That was a lot coming from an Aglionby boy.  
“I know. I want to.”  
“Well, if you really want to, which I don’t see why you would, you’ll have to get to know me first.” She said in a last ditch effort to make him see she wasn’t worth it.  
But damn him, he just smiled and kept walking with her.


	4. Steps in a direction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gansey considers knitting, Kavinsky's human, and Ronan gives Adam Lotion.

Ronan Lynch found himself standing in the skincare aisle at the drug store. It felt like a very un-Ronan thing to do. He didn’t give a single shit about any part of his health, much less something as stupid as his skin. The only reason he wore sunscreen, not that he’d admit it to himself, was because he was trying to maintain a certain image that sunburn ruined. 

But he wasn’t in the skincare aisle for himself. He was there for Adam Parrish. The other boy’s hands were like an old library book they were so dry and cracked. Ronan felt the pain just looking at them. Which he did fairly often.

His phone rang in his pocket. He didn’t know why he still bothered carrying it with him. The only people who ever called him were Declan and Kavinsky. He never answered either of them. Kavinsky because he was always within five minutes of seeing him. His reasons for never answering were more complex.  
Luckily it was only Kavinsky this time and he was only calling because he was impatient. Ronan grabbed and a random bottle and checked out. It wasn’t something he put much thought into. Just a normal I’ve been staring at your hands for days kind of thing. Normal for a friend to do for another friend. Not that Ronan could see himself doing it for anyone else. But that didn’t matter if he didn’t think about it. He was doing his best not to think about it.

He could tell Kavinsky was annoyed the moment that he opened the Mitsubishi’s door. That was the thing about Kavinsky; his emotion was liquid. It was ever changing and unsustainable and it filled whatever space he was in.  
“The fuck took you so long?” He asked, backing out of the drug store parking lot viciously.  
“I just had a hard time finding what I was looking for.”  
“You’ve smoked the same brand for two years and it takes you twenty minutes to find a pack?” He smirked. “Jesus, Lynch, you’re losing it.”  
He didn’t know how right it was.  
“I didn’t get cigarettes.” Ronan said.  
“What the fuck you get then?” Kavinsky asked.  
Ronan tightened his hold on the plastic bag. It wasn’t likely that Kavinsky would tear it out of his hands and demand an explanation for the lotion inside. But he didn’t want to risk it.  
“None of your fucking business, asshat.”  
Kavinsky just shrugged and sped his way to the country club.

 

Why did he spend his time at a country club? It wasn’t the kind of place he belonged, and he sure as hell acted like it. Sure, there was alcohol, but there were better places to get shitfaced than surrounded by old ladies and families of four. And yeah, it was the only thing he did that didn’t almost give his mother a heart-attack, but she was in a valium induced coma at the moment. Besides, after seventeen years of neglect, Kavinsky didn’t care much whether or not she died.  
He was there because it was the only thing he could still do to surprise himself. He could save chasing death for the night. He needed something to occupy his days and sleeping was out of the question. All that was left was to infiltrate the dull monotony of this place and sneer at it.

Seeing Lynch shirtless was just an added plus. 

 

It’s hard to watch someone you want watching someone else. Especially when their eyes were constantly glued to that someone, sparring no glances for you. It was just straight fucking hell when the someone there were watching was Adam Parrish.

Kavinsky couldn’t understand what Ronan saw in him. He was fragile looking and he worked at the country club for fuck’s sake. He was 95% Parrish lived in a trailer park. Sure, he had something sort of pretty about him, but that shouldn’t have been what Lynch was looking for in a person. He should have been looking for Kavinsky.

He looked in the bag the the third, the fucking third, time Lynch got up to get a towel. He hadn’t even gone in the water.It was pathetic. Kavinsky killed the twinge of jealousy he felt when he saw the lotion that Ronan had bought. 

He knew who it was for. He just wished he didn’t.

 

 

Gansey still didn’t know what he was going to do to make it up to Blue. His first thought was to buy her something nice, something she needed, but it didn’t seem right. The problem started with money and he didn’t want to agitate that any further. 

His next thought was knitting. Because knitting something seemed like the kind of thing people did for each other when they didn’t have money and Blue seemed like the kind of girl who liked knitting. But Gansey had no idea how to knit and even if he did, that seemed like to intimate of a gesture.

If he had any other artistic talent he would have put it into action, but the fact was there wasn’t much he was good at that didn’t involve research or being charming. He could offer to write her next history paper for her, but that seemed patronizing in its own right.

He was stuck. But he was stuck in a very good way, a way that involved him spending as much time with Blue as he could. He put more effort into winning her favor these days than he did anything else. If he was honest with himself, it wasn’t just because he felt he was in her debt. That was a large part of it, but he couldn’t deny that he found something about her to be magical. 

And Gansey couldn’t resist magic. He would never even try. He was just lucky that Blue hadn’t punched him square in the teeth yet. Even that made him fall just a tiny bit more in love with her.

 

“You work here right?”  
Blue looked down at her own name tag, a little incredulous. She’d seen the boy around, shaved head, angry eyes. Aglionby, no doubt.  
“Stupid question. But could you help me?” He tilted his head and he shifted from foot to foot. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve said he was nervous.  
She was skeptical. Also, she just didn’t want to help him that much. It wasn’t on the list of things that brought her joy. It was between country music and being vomited on. Still, she threw him a bone. Mostly because he looked like he needed it.  
“How?”  
“Do you know Adam Parrish’s locker number.”  
Whatever she was expecting, it wasn’t that. Sure, she’d seen him talking to Adam a couple of times. A lot, now that she thought about it. It just never seemed like something she needed to bother herself with.  
“I know it sounds weird as shit, but I’m not going to do anything bad. Like, I’m not gonna fucking piss on it or anything.” He rambled. He was bouncing up and down a little, which was a little endearing. Blue was disgusted at herself for thinking it.  
“Why?”  
“I want to give him something.”  
“Okay,” She considered. “And why should I tell you.”  
He considered for a moment. “I’ll give you Gansey’s number.”  
Her first thought was as to how he had Gansey’s phone number, but it vanished quickly. Rich boys were like a spiderweb, infuriatingly connected regardless of how well they knew each other. Her second thought was why he was offering it to her. Not that she didn’t want it.  
“How did you-”  
“It’s not important.” He interrupted.  
“Fine.” She took out the pad she took orders on and wrote down his number. “I don’t know his combination or anything.”  
Ronan just laughed. “That’s not really an issue.”  
Blue shook her head. She felt like she was giving him her blessing as she exchanged the slip of paper for Ronan’s messy scrawl of numbers. Maybe she was. It wasn’t the kind of thing she should be worrying about. What she was going to do with Gansey’s number, on the other hand, could be.

 

Adam was exhausted. He’d gotten up early to finish work at the mechanics and then worked a double shift at the club. It had been a long, hard, day that left him feeling grimy and unsatisfied. And there was still so much standing between him and his bed.  
He needed to shower and change in the locker room,bike four miles home in the late day heat and finally avoid whatever angry his father felt long enough to slip into a grimy and unsatisfying sleep. He wasn’t looking forward to any of it.  
The staff shower was perpetually out of hot water, but the cold spray was a relief after the day he had. And he was willing to drown himself in freezing water if it meant even the smallest promise of relief. He could only hide in the pathetic comfort for so long, fearing another staff member entering the locker room. He couldn’t get be undressed around other people, especially after last night.  
So he turned off the water, wrapper an old towel around his waist, and limped over to his locker. He could enter in the combination without thinking about it, which was the way he did a good deal of things. Mindlessly. It wasn’t a good way to live, but it was a way.

His trance was disturbed when he felt something alien in his locker. His dry fingers brushed something smooth. He took it out and examined it. It was a bottle of lotion, shiny and new, with a white sticky note attached that read  
_Looking a little dry, Parrish. -R_

Mixed thrills ran through him as he held it. The joy of being recognized. The frustration of not being know. To see the initial and know who left it. The selfish thought that this was the first real gift he’d received in months and an angry pride that made him not want it. And something more, something gravitational that he only felt around Ronan. It was the only feeling that was slowly outweighing the panic and the shame. It was terrifying in its own right. It was too soft around the edges to be anything other than bad news. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all this was gonna be longer but then I split it up.   
> I have no timeline except the overwhelming need to finish before the american school year begins and you have my word on that.  
> Stay Frosty.  
> explain to me the difference between one direction and five seconds of summer @ http://i-had-an-emotion-once.tumblr.com/


	5. I Want You So Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get real.Rain is used as a plot device. Blue and Gansey are dorks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Casual mention of Adam's deafness? Kavinsky does some shady stuff, but it's a lot tamer than book Kavinsky, so

_(Sent 3:07 A.M. )  
**Hello** _

____  
Who is this?  
  
**An acquaintance, of sorts** _That’s incredibly vague_  
  
**Embrace the mystery Pal.**

Blue flung her cell phone at the end of her bed. She couldn’t believe what she was doing. Especially considering the _who_ and the . It was three in the morning. She should have been asleep hours ago, but her phone was burning with the number Ronan had given her. She was texting _Gansey_ , of all people. And he was playing along so far.

_You’re now in my contacts as ‘Jane”_

**Why would you assume I’m female?**

_There’s just something about you._

_Besides, only a girl would keep stringing me along like this_.

**That’s awfully sexist, don’t you think?**

_Only a girl would accuse me of being sexist._

Blue was reconsidering the whole thing. She had her rules and her reasons for following them.

_Sorry, that was a bit rude. But I would still appreciate you telling me who you are._

**Not going to happen.**

_If I guess, will you tell me?_

**Probably not**

_Are you Henry’s younger sister? The one I met at the garden party._

**I’ve changed my answer to a solid no.**

_Alright then. What do you want to talk about?_

Blue was shocked that he was still so willing to talk to her. She shouldn’t have been, after seeing all the effort he put into trying to apologize to her. 

**I want to know why you’re up so late.**

_The explanation is fairly long._

**That’s Alright.**

**I’ve got time**

Adam had been lucky enough in the last couple of days to avoid the worst of the rain when he biked to work. He was hoping the good fortune would last, but he had to face it. He wasn’t that lucky.  
The day before had been free of rain. But come Saturday, the vicious summer storms had returned without hesitation. It was a sign from nature;there's no time for relaxation. Not for Adam anyway.  
No time for ease either. Getting home would be like biking underwater the rain was so heavy. But he'd done it before and he'd probably have to do it again. The inevitably of hardship was just a fixture in his life. He was learning to accept it.

It was starting to drizzle as he left the club house. By the time he reached his bike it had turned into a steady downpour. It wouldn't be long before he was completely drenched.  
He had just gotten unlocked his bike when headlights split through the rain behind him. Stepping over to the left he noted the silver bmw that the lights came from. It was an older model, probably belonging to an middle aged man too nostalgic to upgrade to a newer car. Adam envied the owner, not so much for the wealth that the car implied, but because they didn't have to be in the rain.  
"Need a ride, Parrish?" The window rolled down to reveal Ronan Lynch, looking insolent and untouchable. The face that Adam spent far too much time thinking of betrayed no thought. Ronan was designed to keep secrets. Adam wished he hadn’t spent so much time trying to figure out what those secrets were.  
“Seriously, let me drive you home.” Ronan said, shaking Adam out of his Lynch themed revery.  
“You don’t have to do that,” Adam said, his accent slipping out as it did at the worst times.  
“I’m not taking no for an answer Parrish.” Ronan’s voice was steel.  
But it wasn’t his tone that made Adam give in. It was the fact that from the moment he saw the headlights he was hoping it might’ve been Ronan. He just hadn’t realized until the thought struck him that maybe Ronan was hoping the person on the bike was him.  
“Give me a second,” He said. Ronan didn’t bother him as he locked his bike back up, probably satisfied he’d won.  
He walked to the passenger side only to find a very agitated looking Kavinsky leering at him through the window. He should have realized. Ronan and Kavinsky went almost everywhere together. He was the photo negative of Ronan; it only made sense that he was the one occupying shot gun of his car.  
Adam opened the back door and slid in behind Kavinsky. The leather interior was soft and the car smelled like motor oil and the countryside. It was a car that had been well-kept, but used enough by the owner that they made an impression upon it. Adam realized that Ronan was not the original owner of the car. It was too full of memory to be only his.  
\---  
Ronan drove like it was an artform, one that Adam couldn’t tell if he was good at or not. He stopped too suddenly or not at all and was always ten miles over the speed limit. This only added on to the contradictory feeling growing in Adam’s stomach.  
It had been there since he’d entered the car. The combination of relief at not being in the rain, the tension between Ronan and Kavinsky, and the strange thrill of being in Ronan’s car had swallowed up all thoughts in Adam’s mind. He was left there, without words.  
But he was glad he took Ronan’s offer. The rain had started light enough but had increased to a full on flood. He couldn’t imagine making it home in that kind of weather. He reminded himself of this everytime he caught Kavinsky’s glare fixed on him in the rearview mirror.Though soon enough Ronan turned sharply into a complex of modern mansions and shot a pointed look at his friend. It was like he had no use for words. Ronan said so much without them

Four turns more and they were in a sprawling driveway. The house it led up to was undoubtedly large, but it was surprisingly empty. No other cars were in the driveway and the lights were off. The only thing absent was a for sale sign in the perfectly manicured lawn.  
“See you tomorrow.” Ronan said flatly.  
Kavinsky shot one last venomous look at Adam and got out. He slammed the door so hard the entire car shook. Adam swallowed the customary fear that came up automatically when he witnessed such blatant displays of rage.  
“Don’t mind him.” Ronan said. “He’s an asshole.”  
Adam nodded but said nothing. He knew the tension was his fault. If he hadn’t have been there no issue would have made itself present.  
Adam was struck with the thought that he never made things better by being there. He only ever made things worse. This wasn’t the first time he realized.  
“Are you going to stay back there?” Ronan asked, not pleased but not unfriendly.  
Adam shrugged. Words still hadn’t come back to him.  
“Get up here. I’m not your damn chauffeur.”  
Adam obliged. He would have denied it to anyone who’d asked, just as he had to himself, but he was glad to be closer to Ronan. Relieved, almost.

 

\---

Adam hadn’t said a word to Ronan except to give him directions. to be fair, Ronan wasn’t bursting with conversation topics himself. Being so close to Adam made his stomach twist in an incredibly pleasant way. It didn’t leave much space in him to talk.  
If he did say anything, he was afraid things he didn’t want to would spill out. How much he liked the shape of Adam’s face, how much he thought about him, how whenever he saw K look at him like he was garbage the urge to punch his best friend in the face overwhelmed him. The silence was much less uncomfortable than saying that. So he let it be.  
The trouble was how difficult he found it to keep his eyes on the road. He was hazardous enough without tearing his gaze away from traffic every five seconds. That was how often he was tempted to look at Adam. He’d counted. It only took five seconds for the desire to well up in his chest and over take him. It was such a enjoyable danger. He wouldn’t mind if he got in a car crash because of it. Better to die with that feeling that to lose it.  
He almost drove right past the entrance to Adam’s home. Adam stopped him and made him pull over just before it. He made to enter but Adam stopped him.  
“Here’s good.” Adam said, looking embarrassed.  
“You sure?” Ronan asked.  
“Yeah, it’s complicated, I don’t-”  
“Say no more.” Ronan cut him off. He put the car in park and settled back in his seat.  
“Thank you for the ride,” Adam said just as Ronan asked “Is this where I should pick you up tomorrow?”  
“What?” Adam turned towards him looking like the idea was unheard of.  
“You left your bike back at the club right?” Ronan asked.  
“Yeah, but-” Adam replied.  
“I’m not going to make you fucking walk six miles.”  
“It’s not your problem.” Adam said. _I’m not your problem_ his face seemed to say. It crushed Ronan a little bit.  
“It is now. I just made it my problem.”  
“What about Kavinsky?” Adam argued. Ronan realized he would be an issue. He hated when he was near Adam.  
“He can drive his fucking self.” Ronan said. He wouldn’t be happy about it, but fuck him. He wasn’t Ronan’s responsibility.  
“Are you sure? I don’t want to bother you” Adam tilted his head away from Ronan, suddenly looking ashamed that he was causing an issue. Ronan thought that was insane. Fucking insane.  
He looked at Adam until Adam looked back. He wanted Adam to understand the things he couldn’t never voice out loud. God, he wanted Adam to understand.  
“You don’t fucking bother me Parrish,” He spoke softly.  
Adam looked at Ronan with a gravity that knocked the breath out of him. Like it was the first time anyone had ever told him that. Fucking criminal, was what it was.  
How long had it been? Ronan couldn’t tell if it was a distance of seconds or hours. He got lost in the circles under Adam’s eyes, the changing colors in them. There was so much injustice that he had to keep stopping himself from leaning in. He would have killed for just an inch less of space.  
Adam didn’t shy away from him, didn’t turn his head and run. He met his gaze and he kept his there. Confused, but unafraid. God, there was something about being looked at like that, by _Adam_ of all people, that just killed him.  
“See you tomorrow, Lynch,” Adam said at last. And then he was gone.  
Ronan felt the loss in a manner he hadn’t felt in a while. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep that night. Not after having his heart jump started like that. He had a problem on his hands.

\---

 

Adam was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes when Ronan pulled up. The car was loud enough on its own but it was catastrophic with the god awful noise that currently pouring from it. If he didn’t know any better, Adam would have said it was music.  
Ronan rolled down the passenger window and smiled at him. There was something about him almost meteoric. As much as the boy seemed to be a creature of the night, there was something that suited him about the daylight. He deserved to be properly illuminated.

“What are you waited for, Parrish? An invitation?” Ronan shouted over the noise.  
“I’m waiting for whatever that is to be stopped. I don’t want to be more deaf than I already am!” Adam yelled back.  
Ronan smiled. “Not gonna happen. Get in the fucking car.”  
He laughed in spite of himself and got in the car. He was greeted by Ronan shoving a coffee cup in his face.  
“I don’t know what shit you put in it so” He threw a handful of sugar packets in his face “Go crazy.”  
“Thank you,” Adam said, surprised by the gesture. It seemed something about Ronan amazed him everyday. What a bad habit to fall into.  
“No problem, Parrish.” Ronan said.  
Ronan sped away from the curb. Adam had to hold onto the coffee tightly so it didn’t spill onto his work khakis. He couldn’t keep himself from smiling. God, even the reckless driving was becoming endearing. The music still wasn’t.  
“God, how can you listen to this?” He asked, gesturing at the stereo  
“What do you mean?” Ronan grinned.  
“It’s dreadful.”  
“It’s fine.” Ronan said.  
“This sounds like a horny cat got trapped in a blender factory. Only worse.” Adam argued.  
“A horny cat in a blender factory. That is the stupidest fucking goddamn thing I’ve ever heard.” Ronan cackled. He ran his hand over his head, trying to comprehend it.  
“How can it be?” Adam cried. “You’re listening to this music!”  
Ronan almost choked on his coffee he was laughing so hard. A sense of accomplishment rose in Adam, knowing he had made Ronan that happy. Along with something else, but Adam ignored that part.

Ronan had refused to change the radio station, so Adam had to spend the ride listening to weird techno crap. But Ronan was worth it. He was worth all of it, the awful driving, the bad music, Kavinsky, all of it. Adam couldn’t think about anything that outweighed the goodness of being near Ronan.

He was disappointed when they arrived at the club and he realized he had to actually work that day. Eight hours of folding towels, cleaning up messes, and dealing with rich assholes. He wanted to quit this job so bad, but something was stopping him.

“I’ll catch up with you during your break.” Ronan said.  
And there was his reason.

 

Kavinsky saw it. He saw it all. He hadn’t noticed the first signs, Lynch being gone more than usual. Being more distracted. But slowly, Ronan grown distant and was drinking, two things that never came at the same time. He saw the too long stares and the dreams where there used to be nightmares.

He felt in when Lynch offered to drive Parrish home. With him in the car. He felt in when he was dropped off first and not picked up in the morning. He felt it when Ronan and that son of a bitch came in together that day.

He could feel himself Ronan. And there wasn’t much that would stop him from getting him back.

Blue thanked the heavens that her phone was on silent. Because Gansey would’ve been smart enough to correlate a text tone with the messages he sent every two minutes. And him knowing that it was her would be disasterous. She wasn’t sure how it would be, but it would be.

They had sent 562 texts back and forth in two and a half days. Blue knew this because she couldn’t bring herself to delete any of the evidence, incriminating as it may prove to be.

She was in the kitchen, far from Gansey, filling up _his_ drink, when her phone vibrated softly against her leg.

_I’m not saying that John Lennon’s work justifies the awful things he did. I’m saying that we still have to give the guy credit for changing the music industry._

Her heartbeat sped up. Out of the excitement of texting a boy or of anger of said boy’s ludicrous opinions , she’d couldn’t decide.

**I don’t praise people who beat their children and wives. Ever.**

_I’ll give you this one, Jane. You make good points._  
_I’m still right about JFK, though._  
**There’s no way that JFK was an inside job.**  
_You’re wrong, but whatever._

Blue tucked her phone back in her pocket and smiled to herself. Their arguments were pointless and stupid. She couldn’t figure out why she enjoyed them so much. It was like fighting with a brick wall. A very cute brick wall.

She took Gansey’s drink out of the kitchen and found him in the lounge. He was distracted by his phone, typing something long and probably unrelenting.

“Who are you texting?” Blue asked.  
“What makes you think I was texting?” He inquired back. He still hadn’t looked up from his phone.  
“People don’t type that furiously for anything else. Unless you’re writing like, a bad review of a toaster or something.”  
“You know me so well. Can’t stand a bad toaster on the market. Hey, is-” He looked up at her and stopped mid-sentence.  
“What?” She asked.  
“Why are you smiling?”  
“Um,” She fumbled for a decent lie. “Just happy to see someone finally as passionate about toast as they should be.” She grimaced. That was without a doubt, the lamest thing she’d ever said.  
The side of Gansey’s mouth quirked up. “Alright, then.”  
She wanted to hide her quickly reddening face in her hands. Because she was so uncool. Because she knew why she’d been smiling so hard. It was the seamless blend between the feeling she had texting Gansey and talking to his face. It made her happy.

\---

Adam was packing up when he heard the door to the locker room slam. He turned to see Kavinsky jamming the door shut, seething.  
“What are you doing?” Adam asked. He knew it was something bad. He instinctively started looking for a way out. He’d been through this kind of thing enough.  
Kavinsky didn’t answer. Instead, he stalked towards Adam and pushed his shoulder.  
Adam, taken by surprise at the gesture, stumbled back against the row of lockers. “What the fuck is your-”  
Kavinsky pinned him against the lockers with the full weight of his body. Adam’s arms were trapped behind his back. “Knock it the fuck off, Parrish.”  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Adam said. He felt the usual panic rising in his chest, the complete terror of feeling trapped. He lived so much of his life avoiding that feeling that to be given it by Kavinsky revolted him.  
“Don’t play stupid. You know what you’re doing,” Kavinsky spat.  
“Seriously, Kavinsky. Get the hell off me.” Adam said. He could feel his breathing growing rapid. His whole mouth tasted like metal. He hated it. He hated Kavinsky. He wanted to be anywhere but there.  
“Really?” He sneered. He pressed the center of his body closer to Adam’s. “It’s pretty fucking obvious to me.”  
Adam tried to swallow but he couldn’t. He knew if he tried to talk it would only come out in a jumbled, stuttering mess. And ashamed as he was, he knew he wasn’t far from crying.  
Kavinsky leaned in until his face was only an inch from Adam’s.  
“It’s pretty. Fucking. Obvious.” He said.  
“W-What?”  
“You and Ronan. Stop messing with what’s mine. ”  
“What are you- I have no idea what you're talking about" He said frantically.  
Kavinsky grin was dripping with strange hunger. Adam had never noticed his mouth like he did then. Kanvinsky stepped away from him and Adam felt awful relief. He was able to breath again as Kavinsky made his way towards the door.  
"Call me when you figure it out, _honey_ " He snarled. That last word was so bitter it made Adam’s stomach hurt. And the pain only became more frantic as he figured out what Havinsky meant.  
The door slammed behind Kavinsky, leaving Adam alone. He wanted so badly to forget the last five minutes of his life. The only thing he wanted more was to able to pretend he didn’t understand what he had said.

**Author's Note:**

> Send me anon hate or something.  
> http://i-had-an-emotion-once.tumblr.com/  
> Update coming in the next couple of days, next two chapters soonish after. Sorry there's no schedule and I keep making it longer.  
> Feel free to punch me in the stomach :)


End file.
